exchange
by dezel
Summary: Amelia and Anya's relationship works differently than most, yet similar to others. [A series of power exchange and s/M]
iWHOOPS.

this is gonna be a series about RusAme power exchange. Yuri, yaoi and het. Because I am sinful.

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Fingers slide along her neck, that's held high with pride, despite reddened and stained cheeks from crying. Her hair is messy, damp with sweat, some of it sticking in her mouth and her chest moves up and down with her deep, uneven breaths. Pads of the other's thumbs rub at her smeared make up, cleaning it up, only just marginally.

She hears the soft click of the tiny padlock, releasing the silk collar from her neck and feels it fall into her lap. For a moment, she breaks their eye contact, to look at it. It's innocuous, something she can wear every day without people making a second glance. Light pink, with two thin chains on either side and linking a little pink heart that dangles in the middle. It's pink because that's Anya's favorite color, and she had said pink looked good on her anyways.

Velcro makes such an odd noise to Amelia, especially after long silences and the matching light pink cuffs are removed, allowing her to move her hands much more freely than before. She sits up, legs bent underneath so she's sitting but with Anya still taller than her. Their lips meet, briefly as fingers now thread through her sweat damp hair, getting caught in tangles that had formed from her squirming and moving around quite a bit.

Their kiss breaks and Anya smiles down at her, fingers tracing the curves of her jaw and over her lips. "Are you okay?"

It takes a few minutes for Amelia to remember how to talk, how to form words. She's so tired, that's all she knows. Exhausted physically, emotionally and mentally. "Uh, I'm uh," she swallows, it's as though she had never been taught how to speak. Amelia trembles, only just slightly. "Fine." she finally manages out.

"Are you sure?" Fingers brush over her shoulders, lightly tickling down her arms and rubs at forming bruises. "Do you want anything?"

"'m jus' tired." Amelia mumbles, relaxing into Anya's arms. "Coffee would be nice, though."

"It is late," Anya says, with a little frown. "I do not want you up all night. How about some hot chocolate?"

Her eyes droop shut. "Sounds fair." Amelia lets out a little whine as Anya pulls away, stepping off the bed and eyes her. "'m gonna stay here." Anya doesn't say much to that, exiting their bedroom and down the hall. Amelia slides off the bed, pulling off the covers and throwing off the pillows. They'll have to do laundry tomorrow at some point. In the kitchen, she hears the clattering sounds of glasses and the sound of the faucet running.

Amelia bends down and pulls out a plastic storage box, pulling the top off and starts to take out the fabric from the inside. Making the bed is her chore after these little games, that's what one of the rules they had both agreed on. Some days, Amelia is too exhausted to keep to it and those are the days Anya is lenient. After all, their practice can be draining on so many levels and she doesn't want to push her wife any further than she can go, on any level.

Barely getting the corners to fit, Amelia lets out a little whine as she lays, face down in the light blue sheet, everything else forgotten on the floor next to her feet.

"Amelia, what are you doing?"

Amelia lets out a loud whine now, too tired and sore to lift up her head or give much of a verbal response. However, in her minds eye, she _can_ see Anya roll her eyes. She doesn't hear Anya stride across the floor, but she does hear the sound of cups being set down on their nightstand and the soft creak of the springs in their bed. There's movement as Anya haphazardly grabs the blue comforter, and shifts to the little stand on their left side and a soft _beep._ The sound of a fan starts up, and she hears the sound of her console starts up right after.

"Okay," Anya speaks quietly. "Come here." There's a gentle tug at her upper arm. Amelia lets out another whine, but climbs up on the barely made bed. She snuggles up against her wife, yawning. "What do you want to watch?"

"We should watch Daredevil." Amelia says, a little too quickly.

She feels Anya shift. "How did I know you were going to say that?" Amelia snickers slightly, shifting so she her back lays against Anya's chest and is in a more comfortable position, watching as Anya scrolls through the shows until she selects the show Amelia wants to watch. "Why do you like it so much?"

"The main character is cute." She reaches over, grabbing the cups that Anya nearly forgot about, handing the pink one to her. "And the plot is pretty good. Too bad they won't make shows individually for each character."

"That could take a very long time." The hot chocolate is lukewarm by now, but Amelia still sips at it. Anya didn't add in enough chocolate, she notices but doesn't complain. She was nice enough to make something for them this late anyways. Anya sets her cup aside, not having finished it and instead, runs her fingers down Amelia's arms and gently rubbing at her fingers. "Are you sure you are okay?"

"Mhmm. Are you?" Anya wraps her arms around Amelia's waste and nuzzles the top of her head. Anya inhales briefly, taking in the scent of sweat and the remainder smell of Amelia's strawberry shampoo. That reminds her that they should go and shower at some point, knowing they have to be to work pretty soon, but perhaps a sick day wouldn't hurt them.

"Fine," she finally answers, pressing a kiss on the top of her head and glances at the wall the show is playing on. "Why is this so violent?"

"I dunno." This isn't Anya's favorite genre, and she barely pays attentions, having decided to drop anymore questions and to stop paying attention. Instead, she focuses on giving Amelia a massage, and running her fingers through her hair until Amelia lets down her guard once more. Her wife is only half asleep when Anya gently takes the cup from her loosened fingers and sets it aside, and she carefully shifts both of their bodies until they're on their sides.

Reaching over, she turns down the volume, but still keeps the show playing and pulls the comforter up and over their shoulders. "Good night, Amelia." There's a mumble response. "I love you."

"Umm-hmm, I love you too."


End file.
